


Let me live

by Bdonna



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Demonlock, Gen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 14:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bdonna/pseuds/Bdonna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Please God, let me live... pre-series/season1, John POV</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let me live

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fusion between Sherlock and the manga/anime Black Butler with Sherlock being the demon and John the human he has his contract with. And because I think that Sherlock makes one hell of a consulting detective ;)  
> posting after fiddling with it for three days in the hope that somebody will enjoy reading, the only beta this thing has seen is me and English is not my first language.

 

Let me live

by Belladonna

 

 

The Afghan sun is burning down on me. Mercilessly. Deadly.

And I am, too. Dying.

I can feel myself bleeding out here in the desert. The pain, so unbearable the moment the bullet tore through my shoulder has now dulled compared to the pain in my heart after seeing my whole unit being shot down, dying around me on this godforsaken patch of dried out earth. And there was nothing I could to to help them other than to watch them die.

What use am I as both a soldier and a healer if I wasn't able to save them?

Yet still, with the searing pain in my shoulder slowly coming back, despite myself wishing to join my fallen brothers, I cannot help but feel that I don't want to die yet.

 

„Please God, let me live.“

 

It is a plea that I've never thought to make, more importantly never imagined to be answered.

And yet.

 

„Your God won't help you, you know. For him you've done your job, have outlived your usefulness.“ A strong cultured voice seemingly coming from nowhere breaks the silence. „He will have you consider it a reward to die this very moment.“ The voice sounds a little arrogant as well. „I on the other hand think that this is rubbish, you could be still very useful in the future. It would be a waste of a perfectly good soul.“

 

I don't understand, this must be the pain overtaking rational thought and playing tricks on my mind. I can see nobody except endless seas of sand around me.

 

„...useful?“

 

„Of course you would hone right into the important part of this. Yes, useful. Something you won't be if you die out here.“ The voice replies haughtily. „Funny, in your hour of despair, you are calling out for a God you don't even believe in and actually expect him to answer. You are an interesting individual and I think you can be very entertaining to me. As I've said, He won't come for you but I am here with you. I can save you, little human.“

 

„..save me?“

 

I cannot believe what he, if it is a he, is telling me or if he even is real. Everything is blurred, must be the heat. And I still think that there is no living being out here with me. I am completely alone. But right now I'm clawing at every straw that is being held in my direction. I don't want to die here.

 

„Yes, I can save you. You can return to your home, continue living your life and help people like you've always wished for.“ The voice drawls in its silky tones, embracing me. „The only thing I will ask in return is your soul.“

 

„...my soul?“

 

„Yes, your soul, must you repeat everything I say? This is becoming quite tedious. I thought you would be more interesting. But as I am bored, I will repeat it for your sake in easy terms so that you can understand. I will save you and you will give me in return your soul at the end. Your soul is but a small price to pay in exchange for your life, is it not? Think of all the people you could be saving, all those pesky little humans you've chosen to protect by enlisting in the army, Doctor Watson.“ The voice has changed from silky to annoyed and persuading again but I can still not see anybody around me. I want to save lives, I've always wanted to help, protect and save people. That is why I've become a doctor, why I became a soldier and quite ironically the reason why I'm right now bleeding out into the sands of Afghanistan and talking to a non-existent being, bargaining about my life.

 

„I want to save people.“ I say, my voice only trembling a bit from both pain and exhaustion. „I want to live.“

 

„Do we have an agreement, then Doctor?“

 

„Please...“

 

I feel a searing pain in my thigh, almost like as if a mark would be burnt directly into the flesh. In the far distance I can make out Murray, a friend from another unit making his way towards me, calling my name.

 

„...let me live.“

 

**Author's Note:**

> Originally I wanted to put the mark of the deal over the shoulder wound but I think this is a fun take on the "where is the gunshot of John Watson" having it on the thigh and the reason why John has the psychosomatic limp. I might add some short stuff to this 'verse as soon as the muse strikes again and lets me expand the short 50+ words ideas I have so far that will be set actually during the show ;)


End file.
